


Together

by Anonymous



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 01:23:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After weeks spent apart, things start to make sense for Pete.





	Together

Ricochet breathes roughly against the pillows, not sure what to expect. He's alone, the room's been quiet for what feels like forever, anticipation tensing his spine, and he wants to move, to look, but he knows as soon as he does, it's over, nothing will happen, he'll be stuck frustrated and unfulfilled, and... He tenses, gritting his teeth as he hears a faint shuffling behind him.  
  
"Well, look who actually listened for once." He closes his eyes in relief at the dark accent and exhales shakily into the pillow. "I almost didn't know if you'd stay still for so long. Listening isn't your strongest event, after all..." Teasing knuckles graze down his back and Ricochet shivers. "But you were a good boy. Right?" the voice demands, a sharp command leaving Ricochet at attention.  
  
"Yes I was," he finally says, voice trembling and faltering as he tries so hard to think straight.  
  
"Right." Warmth continues to trail down his spine and Ricochet bites down a gasp as it stops at his tail bone, teasing him. "What do you want, Ricochet? Hmm?"  
  
"You," he says without thinking. A wave of fear courses through him as he realizes that's not sufficient. "Touching me, tasting me, inside of me, I-- I want it all."  
  
"So greedy," the voice says, but it sounds amused, almost pleased. "Well, then." The touch trails lower, and Ricochet moans deep as he feels slight pressure against his entrance. "You really have been desperate for it, haven't you?"  
  
"Please-- plea--" His words devolve into a low, muffled cry as he's slowly stretched by an exploring finger, stroking and curling deeper and deeper inside of him. He breathes shallowly into the pillow as his hips rock back, trying to take more, so hungry for it that it almost hurts. He whimpers when the finger is eased back out, suddenly clenching against thin air, cold and empty, but he just inhales and holds it until two fingers thrust back into him and punches all the oxygen out of his lungs as he's stretched and filled. "Pete," he cries out, clenching the pillows so tight he thinks he hears one of them tear.  
  
Dunne's laugh is low, dark and filled with promise as he stretches out over Ricochet's convulsing body, gripping his jaw and turning him in order to stare into his face. "Yes?" he asks, still impassive, still frustratingly calm as Ricochet shatters to pieces under him.  
  
Ricochet groans, aching for more, and grips his jaw with trembling fingers, pulling him in and kissing him roughly, his moans and whines muffled into Pete's mouth as Dunne's fingers continue to delve deep inside of him, sending more molten heat coursing through his veins, leaving him hard and throbbing so desperately against the bedding that he thinks if he doesn't orgasm right now, he'll die, but Pete doesn't seem to want that as he pulls away from Ricochet and listens to his agonized moans as he works his clothes off, trailing his eyes along Ricochet's straining, tense body, muscles coiled and twitching as he struggles to hold on, certain Pete wouldn't just leave him unfulfilled like this. "How long's it been?" Pete wonders, painstakingly unbuttoning his shirt and watching as Ricochet struggles to find the answer.  
  
"Apr--April..." Wrestlemania week, when Pete had lost the UK title. When Ricochet had held him, had accepted all of his anger and heartbreak in whatever intimate moments they could find that busy week, until Dunne had returned to England to try to reclaim what Walter had taken from him.  
  
"Right," Pete says softly, his slacks dropping to the ground and picked up, placed over the back of the chair next to the bed to avoid wrinkling. "Three months then. It has been a rather long time." Ricochet groans softly and Pete turns to look at him, licking his lips lazily. "And now you are champion. Perhaps..." Pete pauses, mulling over his thoughts. "Perhaps it is time we both share that honor again."  
  
Ricochet barely grasps his words, still yearning for something that's not coming while Pete stands next to the bed, partially dressed and lost in thought. "Pete-- please--"  
  
This snaps him back to the present and he frowns, eyes trailing once more over Ricochet's naked, desperate body. "Ah. Yes." He steps forward to give Ricochet a better view and shakes his head. "We have a lot of lost time to make up for." Ricochet's gasp is ragged, throbbing even more intensely against the sheets as Dunne tugs his boxer briefs down his hips, carefully stepping out of them before placing them on the chair as well. He stares down at Ricochet a moment, taking in the glassy look in his eyes, before stepping forward and kneeling on the side of the bed, leaning in to kiss him.   
  
Ricochet moans, hungrily lapping at Dunne's mouth, and Dunne hums, fingers trailing down Ricochet's side before twisting deep inside of him once more and drawing a long, deep whine from him as he brushes against every bundle of nerves along the way and sends Ricochet crashing hard into an orgasm that seems to last forever, Pete continuing to urge him through it with subtle quirks of his fingers, his hips stuttering with each wave of pleasure flooding his body, leaving him gasping and moaning as the tension is drawn, slow and sweet, from his strained body.  
  
Ricochet finally collapses, spent, and Pete eases his fingers back out, pressing a kiss between Ricochet's fluttering eyes before hoisting him up, almost amused by the state of the sheets as he carries him away from the soaked bedding, settling in a chair on the other side of the room and just holding him as he floats, lost in the overwhelming aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through his veins. Pete needs attention too, but he's content for now holding Ricochet and waiting, breathing steadily as he stares out at the night sky, stars twinkling lazily.  
  
He's glad to be back in Florida, he's pleased to be able to see Ricochet again, touch him, and distract him further from the embarassment of certain things that Dunne's going back to England for so long had led to. He's so lost in thought that he doesn't notice Ricochet stir, or move back to stare into his face, until he speaks up. "Are you mad?"  
  
This attracts Pete's attention and he blinks, slow and confused, before turning his head to meet Ricochet's wary gaze. "Why would I be mad? And if I was, do you truly believe any of this would be happening?"  
  
"Well, no," he says softly. "But..."  
  
"I have nothing to be mad at you about," he says simply. "Others, yes. You, no."  
  
Ricochet's eyes soften, filling with affection and relief, and Pete rasps a finger down his cheek before trailing it over his lips, smirking when Ricochet kisses his fingertip. He moves, shifts to sit back, when he pauses, looking up at Pete. "Pete..."  
  
"Yes?" he asks, aware of what Ricochet's just felt but not encouraging him, his jaw aching from how desperately he is working to not react to the warm pressure of Ricochet's thigh against his hard, slick flesh.  
  
Ricochet shakes his head, lowers his eyes to get a proper look, and hisses out a breath. "Man, you should've said something," he laughs weakly. "As good as your fingers always feel, and let me tell you, they are spectacular, this would've been amazing too..."  
  
Pete shrugs, his arousal growing the longer Ricochet stares down at him, his words echoing in Dunne's mind over and over again. "You needed something a little bit different tonight, I felt," he says quietly and Ricochet looks up at him, a small smile playing at his lips.  
  
"Well, thank you for that, but I can't just leave you like this, how unfair would that be for you to come all this way just for this to be your payback, huh?" Pete doesn't respond and Ricochet hums, trailing his knuckles over the fresh precome dripping lazily down his flesh. Lifting his hand, he licks it clean, watching as Pete's eyes sharpen, his mouth twisting. "What do you want from me?" he asks quietly and Pete finally relaxes his jaw, a low moan coming from deep in his chest.  
  
Ricochet waits patiently as Dunne watches him clean his hand with lazy licks and finally rasps out, "Bloody hell. That."  
  
Ricochet smirks, issuing another cut off gasp from Pete as he traces his erection again, Pete's fluids coating his skin within seconds. "This?" he asks softly, easing his fingers back into his mouth and sucking at them, sighing softly at the taste that he's been yearning so desperately for the last few months.  
  
"God," Pete mumbles, his eyes dark and blown with pure lust, "yes."  
  
Ricochet nods, quickly, before sinking down to his knees in front of the chair and gripping Pete's hips, drawing him closer to the edge before licking his lips, eager to begin, desperate to please. He's slow, methodical, always like to tease just a little before beginning properly. Trails his knuckles up Dunne's thighs, feeling the tense ridges of muscles there, Ricochet watching as more precome drips onto his hand. He licks this clean too and then looks up, finding Pete frowning down at him, and he simply shifts forward, lapping at the glistening liquid that just keeps forming with sure, slow licks. Pete makes a strangled kind of noise and Ricochet is careful not to move as he rolls his eyes up to glance at him, realizing he's whiteknuckling the armrests of the chair, tense and yearning but struggling not to let go of the tight control he always has of himself.  
  
Well, that just will not do, Ricochet decides, and grips Pete's erection with gentle fingers, sliding his lips over it, giving him a taste of how slick and warm Ricochet's mouth is. Pete does moan this time, slow and drawn out, but Ricochet knows there's still more he's holding back, so he ease back down to the tip, catching Pete's eyes as he seals his lips around it, tracing it with his tongue and lapping up each bit of precome, before beginning to suck, slow at first, testing the waters. Pete gasps as his hips involuntarily jerk up, Ricochet knowing he's found the winning combination immediately. He takes it slow, wanting to unravel Pete carefully, because they really don't get to do this often, and he may as well make the most of it, every soft moan and hiss Pete makes leaving a warm sense of pride deep in Ricochet's chest.  
  
Pete's eyes flutter when Ricochet's tongue stretches along the underside of his erection, his lips trailing lower and sucking harder on his throbbing flesh. Overwhelmed and flesh flushing hot as he strains against the pressure of Ricochet's mouth exploring him so thoroughly, his thighs are trembling under Ricochet's hands, and he can feel his self-control slipping, his fingers tearing into the soft fabric of the chair as he tries to reign himself in, not fall apart this early.  
  
But Ricochet seems determined to get more out of him and he strokes Pete's thighs, along the bones of his hips, trailing up his pelvis. "Please," he says around Dunne's erection, and Pete bites back a strangled gasp at the sudden vibration. "Pete, please."  
  
He knows what Ricochet wants, but it's never been in him to give in so easily, to fall apart so suddenly. To be vulnerable. But then their eyes meet and Dunne exhales, remembering the faith and trust he'd seen earlier in Ricochet's gaze as he'd worked him through his orgasm-- to not hurt him any further, to keep him from being humiliated again. Two way street, init, he thinks wildly, looking away and trying to accept this insane, uncharacteristic thought. If it'd been anyone else, he assumes they would've given up on him long ago, stopped trying to work reactions out of him, let him sort himself out, but Ricochet simply drops his gaze, eases him in just a little further, and continues to work him over with careful dedication.  
  
Bit by bit, Pete forces his deathgrip on the chair arms to relax, and he exhales, long and slow, feeling some of the tension leaving his chest and shoulders. This time, when Ricochet's tongue sweeps along his erection, he doesn't fight the noises welling up in his throat, letting out a soft, keening moan that sends Ricochet's eyes up to his, shock and happiness in his gaze when he realizes that Pete is relaxing, giving in to his ministrations finally, moans and gasps continuing to pour out. His fingers move slowly against Pete's trembling thighs, gripping his hips and guiding him, Ricochet's lips parting further as he takes more of Pete into his mouth, Dunne's moans now coming louder and more desperate and feeding Ricochet's urges, leading him to not wait any further as he draws Dunne in all the way, swallowing convulsively around him.  
  
Pete shatters, losing all self-control, unable to look away from Ricochet right now. "Ric-- Ricochet!" he pants, struggling not to thrust up and risk choking Ricochet or anything worse, heat pulsing through his veins with each shift of Ricochet's mouth against his throbbing flesh. Ricochet bobs his head, and Pete moans hungrily, unable to stop moving as he tugs at his sweat soaked hair, biting at his knuckles, gripping his jaw hard, trying to find purchase somewhere as he struggles to breathe, so close, so close that it aches. Without thinking, he reaches down and brushes his hands against Ricochet's skull, along his temples, shuddering as this touch alone sends tingling warmth pulsing up his fingers, into his wrists.   
  
He'd tried to tell himself for the better part of the last year that this, between them, is just casual, some rivalry that had turned sexual, but as he watches Ricochet continue to swallow around him, wild moans and gasps slipping from his trembling lips, he knows it's all been a lie. Knew it since he'd seen the disparaging comments on social media towards the beautiful man kneeling before him, how much Pete had wanted to go and break all of their fingers so no one could ever type anything to hurt Ricochet again.   
  
He closes his eyes as everything just suddenly fits like a puzzle he'd been missing the final piece of for far too long and Ricochet swallows around him once more and just like that, Dunne feels it crashing all around him, pleasure building up into something that even he won't be able to control. He tries to shift, push Ricochet up, not wanting to overwhelm him, but Ricochet holds steady, gripping his hip to hold him in place with one hand and patting his thigh with the other as if it to say it's ok. Let go. I'm here.  
  
So Dunne does, his hips stuttering as he arches up nearly clean out of the chair, each wave of pleasure flooding Ricochet's mouth and keeping him busy as he determinedly swallows it all down. Finally Pete collapses back in the chair, spent and trembling, and Ricochet gives him a few more, soft licks, before easing back on his heels and looking up at Pete with a slow, affectionate smile. His knees ache and his back and jaw feel tight from holding that one position for so long as he gets up, but it was definitely worth it, as he settles back in the chair and works his arms around Pete's limp form, holding him close and stroking the sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Thank you," he says softly, kissing the side of Pete's face.  
  
Pete stirs a few moments later. "Shouldn't I be the one thanking you?" he wonders, voice far away as Ricochet huffs out a laugh against the shaved side of his skull.  
  
"Thank you," Ricochet clarifies, "for letting go. For trusting me."  
  
Pete hums, still dazed by the force of his climax, wrapping an arm around Ricochet's hips and drawing him in tight. He can't remember the last time he's said these words, but his earlier revelation is fresh on his mind, and it feels like the perfect time to finally say it, before doubts and reality creep back in and risk his ever finding the courage to do so again. "I love you."  
  
Ricochet gasps, softly, his eyes bright with hope as he searches Pete's face. Finding nothing but frank sincerity there, he laughs and trembles, pressing his forehead to Pete's. "I love you too."


End file.
